


The Eagle Acquires A Dog (or Three?)

by VoicesInMyHead



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 01:31:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoicesInMyHead/pseuds/VoicesInMyHead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One miserable Stormy evening in Autumn Bossuet follows his ears</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Eagle Acquires A Dog (or Three?)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leighdadee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leighdadee/gifts).



Walking from the building where his philosophy class was held, Bossuet didn’t notice he was being followed. His mind was on the debate he’d bowed out of. Yes, he had fact and arguments to back his point of view up to win easily but it just was not that important to him. So, he’d finished with “You are right, my friend. To show there is no malice between us, let us share a bottle of wine next time you are in the Musain”. With those words he smiled, bowed, and took his seat.

As he neared his rooms, he heard whimpering coming from his right. Following the worrying sound, the brunette young man found a litter of puppies. Only the curious thing was that there seemed to be only one living puppy and he was barely hanging onto his mortal coil. Without a second thought, Bossuet pulled off his jacket, wrapping all of them, mother and puppies into it taking them home with him to see if he could at least save the one that lived and give his family a proper burial.

Lighting a fire in his cold fireplace, he piled he belongings in a makeshift nest. Satisfied with the nest, he carefully picked up the largest of the dogs and cradled her to his chest. Not feeling any warmth or a pulse, he placed a spare waistcoat around the dog and rubbed vigorously; he thought he could make her heart start beating again this way. After a full five minutes of providing friction, he gave up. Bossuet set her gently into a blanket-lined box and moved on to the first of her puppies with renewed determination. He may not have been able to save the mother but he was going to save at least one of these puppies. He repeated the process with three more puppies without success. These joined their mother in the box. Yet, Bossuet was not one to lose heart.

Pouring himself a snifter of brandy he had hidden away for a cold, rainy nights such as these Bossuet squared his shoulders and found his resolve again to continue the business at hand. He didn’t know if there was a God or some sort of higher power but his gut told him that something resembling fate led him to the sound of the whimpering, suffering animal. Why hadn’t anyone else heard it? The streets were certainly not abandoned at that time. Whatever happened, he felt he was destined to find those puppies.  
Hopefully, he would save at least one.

With four left, the brunette chose the one he had heard whimpering from the street. This puppy was now nosing his way over toward the fire. She, Bossuet soon found out, was a fighter. With a sigh of relief he picked her up and cooed affectionately. As she nipped at his thumb, he watched her brother and sisters who had not shown any signs of life as of yet.  
Satisfied this one was going to make it; Bossuet set her back in the nest of blankets by the fire where she curled back up and went to sleep. Satisfied that she would be okay, he picked up the biggest one in the bunch; this time a boy. He focused his hands’ attention on working warmth into the cold, lifeless, frozen body. After a few minutes, he was rewarded with a warm pink tongue scraping against his hand.

"There you go, Petit Frere," he smiled, placing the squirming puppy next to his sleeping sister. He turned his attention back to the final two puppies. Picking up one and then the other, he worked warmth into their little bodies. Hoping he might be successful in saving at least two more lives this night. He was dead on his feet. He must have been at this for hours now. The only light being provided was the light of the fire he had built for the puppies. He looked out his window, trying to gauge how long the sun had been down. Of the two, one of the puppies didn’t make it but the fourth did. Grateful for at least that, he deposited the body of the lost puppy with his departed family and set the now wheezing puppy with the few he was able to save.  


Picking up the box, Bossuet made sure The living pups were doing well by the fireplace before setting off outside to find a good site for the burial. The poor things would have been discarded like someone’s laundry had he not heard the whimpering cries of that one puppy. He knocked on a neighbor’s door and borrowed a trowel; jogging the short distance to a small park where he dug a deep hole under his favorite tree (he would admire it as he passed on the way to the Musain) and said goodbye to the poor dears, promising to find good homes for the others (although, if he were honest with himself he would be keeping that first puppy for himself… at least for a little while. There were more important things to be done). Satisfied that human decency had been met, Bossuet, pulled the collar of his jacket and walked home.

Smiling to himself as he walked inside, Bossuet pulled off the wet layers and joined the puppies in their nest of warm dry clothes and fell asleep.

In six months the puppies were still living with Bossuet and thriving.


End file.
